glitzpitfanaticfandomcom-20200214-history
Chapter 35 - A Relic of a Darker Time (TCOK)
Tubba strode up the red sands of Gusty Gulch. It was nearly a month ago that he had began the charge for vengeance. So much had changed in so little time. Having been acquitted of his crimes, Tubba was free to walk alone on Gusty Gulch without fear of persecution. He glared down some of Bubba's cronies who still lurked around, who clearly had heard what he did to Snubba Clubba aboard the SS Mahruav after Bubba's death. To his relief, the cronies of Bubba were scared of him. It was awkward looking at Haruabe and the other teachers, as well as the other students, who in the time they knew him, he was just that runt in the corner. It would take time for them to come to terms with Tubba being a Prince. All around him, Clubbas of all scale colors were coming out of their houses, green, blue, red, teal, yellow, orange, and they were pointing at him and whispering to their neighbour in hushed voices. Keeping his eyes locked on the castle ahead, Tubba ignored the attention. The returning heroes, the army, the King and the Commander of the Armies, had gone first, before the SS Mahruav, to try and draw attention away from them. However, it backfired, for all it had done was ensured everyone was out of their house to celebrate the fanfare and the glory of a war well won. As the SS Mahruav crew approached, the voices turned hushed and suspicious. "It's the murderer!" A childish voice cried out, clearly louder than it intended it to. Tearing Karubba's club off where it was resting on his shoulder, Tubba pointed it viciously to the crowd on either side of him. "Who said that?!" He roared, letting spit fly from his pink lips. The familiar rage he felt boiled up until he was willing to take anyone to the club. A calming hand rested on his shoulder. Tubba glanced over his left shoulder to see Mud, his face warning, shaking his head. Heaving a deep sigh to calm himself, he put the club back onto his shoulder, his insides burning with anger. Locking his eyes on the castle and preventing himself from reacting to anything, he climbed the sands up to the castle. The castle was quite different from when he had last been there. When he had last been there, the castle had been adorned with tall pictures of Tubba Sr. from the outside. Almost all of those pictures had been replaced by Chubba's image, in various positions with his club. Tubba snorted; trust his egomaniac brother to make the castle bear his image. He entered the castle, to find the entrance hall completely deserted. While the army persons had instantly dispersed to visit the families they had left behind, the SS Mahrauv were given the rooms in the basement and were invited to stay as long as they liked, having fought with the Clubba Kingdom to win the war. As a consequence of the war, Tubba figured Clubbar would be at the mortuary of the castle, where he would be handing the recovered dead bodies to the families with a solemn look. Striding through the entrance hall, he walked through the imposing, carefully crafted door directly ahead. The throne hall of the castle was the most familiar room. The thrones were in the same place, one large throne for the King, two smaller thrones on either side for the Princes. Lounging on the large throne was Chubba, with two soldiers standing in tableau on either side of him. "Why are you here, Tubba?" Chubba asked as Tubba pushed his nose into the throne room. Sensing Chubba did not want to be bothered, Tubba muttered an apology and closed the door. Waiting for him back in the entrance hall was Mud. "Hello, Mud." Tubba greeted him, making sure the throne room door was closed. "Don't you have anything to do? You are a Prince, aren't you?" Mud grilled Tubba, who stood lounging on Karubba's club. "You shouldn't just lounge on your club." "I thought I told you. It's not my club." Mud nodded. "So why don't you get yours? If I know you, you want to forget what made you stray from the Clubba Kingdom in the first place." ''Hang on. Mud's right! I took Karubba's club with the intent to weaponize it and be deadly with it. My own club isn't tainted with the blood of others. ''"You know what, Mud? You're right." Tubba thanked his friend and immediately set off toward the weapons storage. While he fully expected the normal weapons storage to be full with soldiers dropping their now-unneeded weapons, the old King weapons storage would be empty. In the basement, the weapons storage was a museum of sorts, holding relics of the weapons of old Kings. Leaping down the basement stairs by four, he went down to the weapons storage. Pushing aside the rough oak door, which clearly had not been opened since he was last down there, he entered the room. In the corners of the dimly-lit room were dusty relics of older Clubba kings, but Tubba only had eyes for the club that lay directly ahead. His old club. Above the club's portrait was a picture of Karubba R. Clubba Blubba with the club in Tubba's hand. Grabbing his old club in his left hand, Tubba left Karubba's club underneath the portrait and exited the room. He was himself again.